


Lighter Than Air

by Sandrene09



Series: Tumblr Prompts [5]
Category: Smosh
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:30:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3582942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrene09/pseuds/Sandrene09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Anthony thinks he’s been immensely lucky.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lighter Than Air

**Author's Note:**

> For anon, who asked for a fic for number 21: things you said when we were on top of the world. I am so so sorry, anon, but I really couldn’t think of anything for this, so have fun (or not) with this short and badly written fic.

Ian is worried.

Anthony can tell, because he can see the minute creases on his forehead, can see the far-away look in his eyes that means he’s thinking hard about something, can see the way Ian looks just that bit anxious from the way he holds himself stiff, as if holding himself back from walking the anxiety off. His shoulders are a bit too high, like he’s shielding himself from _something_ , and his face is tense, like he’s a few seconds away from grinding his teeth in frustration.

They’re in the hallway. The walls are painted sky blue and white tiles compose the flooring beneath their feet. Uncomfortably cold chairs with armrests are placed against one wall, and though Anthony is the only one seated, Ian refuses to sit down, instead choosing to stay standing.

Ian sighs. Anthony watches as Ian uncrosses his arms and pushes back one sleeve to look at his watch—only two minutes have passed since Ian last looked at his watch.

Another sigh.

Ian lets his arms fall to his sides, and Anthony looks at the hand dangling near his face for only a second before taking the hand in his, giving it a firm squeeze. Anthony sees Ian smile a little, soft and nothing like the wide grins he usually has for when they’re filming, and he feels his heart skip a beat.

It’s been eight years since they started dating and four years since they’ve gotten married, and Anthony still can’t believe that he’s been lucky enough to have gotten his head out of his ass when he did. After nights of sleeping together and days spent with each other, Anthony still can’t quite wrap his head around the fact that it’s _him_ Ian chose to love, _him_ Ian chose to direct intimate smiles and even more intimate looks.

Anthony thinks he’s been immensely lucky.

Ian squeezes Anthony’s hand, and Anthony smiles, bringing Ian’s hand to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to the back of it, his thumb continuing to caress the knuckles.

Ian looks down at him, his eyes softening and filling with fondness, and Anthony finds himself captivated by Ian’s blue eyes, still as beautiful as before and, in some ways, even more so.

“We’ll be fine,” Anthony says, directing a reassuring smile at Ian. He does not stop moving his thumb back and forth over Ian’s knuckles, knowing that that simple gesture means a lot to Ian, knowing that that simple gesture grounds him.

There are a million worries visible in Ian’s eyes. This is something Anthony wouldn’t have been able to tell back then, when they were still just best friends and pretending that it wasn’t attraction they were feeling, but now, it’s only one of many things Anthony has learned to identify.

Ian closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly before opening his eyes again. “How are you so sure?”

Anthony stands up, his hand still holding onto Ian’s. He wraps one arm around Ian’s waist and brings Ian closer to him, smiling when he sees the surprise in Ian’s eyes.

Back then, he would never have dreamed that his future would involve Ian in such a way. There was never any doubt in his mind that Ian would still be there by his side in the future, but this—this is something else. This is something even his wildest dreams could never hope to compare to.

“Trust me,” Anthony says, his voice soft even though they’re the only ones in the hallway. “Just trust me, okay? We’ll be good. We’ll be okay.”

Ian gives him a trusting smile, and Anthony leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to Ian’s forehead.

Anthony steps back from Ian, but not before letting his thumb softly rub over the smooth surface of Ian’s plain white gold wedding ring.

Anthony smiles. That wedding had been a blast, and in some ways, an absolute disaster. From the flat tire of the limousine meant for the grooms, to the rings Mari forgot to bring—it was a miracle they managed to go through the ceremony at all without a few heart attacks and strokes.

The reception had been nice, at least. The food had been great, and even though the best man speeches had been embarrassing, they had still been fun to listen to. Anthony still remembers the impromptu game of chase around the dance floor when Ian had grinned at him cheekily before suddenly swiping icing off their multi-tiered cake with a finger and sliding said finger against Anthony’s cheek. By the end of the night, no one was saved from the icing war—even the DJ had a few swipes of icing on his hair, courtesy of a drunk Flitz and a few family members from Ian’s side.

The honeymoon—Anthony shakes his head, the smile on his face turning into a full-blown grin. That had been the night when Ian and Anthony had formally made themselves members of the Mile High Club. When they arrived in Japan, they went straight to their hotel.

They did not leave the room for 24 straight hours.

“Why are you smiling?”

Anthony looks at Ian and shakes his head. “It’s nothing,” he says. “I was just thinking about our honeymoon.”

“Ah yes,” Ian says, nodding slowly, a smile slowly spreading on his face, “I remember. That honeymoon, when you collapsed on top of me in exhaustion and slept. That _was_ a great honeymoon.”

“Shut up,” Anthony says, laughing. “We were both exhausted. The flight was long, okay?”

“You slept on the plane,” Ian says, one eyebrow raised. “It was afternoon when we arrived.”

“Tomato, tomahto,” Anthony says, and Ian laughs, leaning his forehead against Anthony’s shoulder.

Anthony smiles as he looks at the back of Ian’s head. He can feel Ian shaking with laughter, can feel happiness permeate his chest until it feels like his heart is going to burst with how full it feels.

This…this is real. He’s happy.

“Mr. Padilla and Mr. Hecox?”

Immediately, Ian lifts his head up from Anthony’s shoulder and stands still, his eyes focused on the smartly-dressed man standing before them with a manila envelope in his hands. Anthony resists the urge to smile when he realizes that Ian didn’t let go of his hand.

The man smiles at them before walking closer. “I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting, but here are the important documents.”

Anthony feels Ian still beside him. “Does that mean…?” Ian asks, unsure and hesitant, but wanting to know the answer.

The man nods. “Congratulations,” he says, smiling at them with sincerity clear in his brown eyes. “You have been approved to adopt baby Marie.”

Anthony blinks, not quite believing what he has just heard.

They’ve been _approved_.

They can take her home now.

They’re _parents_.

“Thank you,” Ian says as he takes the envelope offered to him. “Thank you so much.”

The man nods. “I will let you have a moment to yourselves. Please excuse me,” he says as he walks away with wide, sure steps, his footsteps ringing down the hallway.

Ian turns to Anthony, and Anthony can see the happiness in his eyes, can see the blinding grin, can see the unshed happy tears. This is something they’ve wanted for almost a year now, ever since they took a look around and Marie had caught Ian’s eye with her beautiful smile.

Anthony hugs Ian, letting go of Ian’s hand to be able to wrap his arms around him. He can feel Ian’s tears soak through his shirt, can feel Ian lean his forehead against Anthony’s shoulder.

“We’re okay,” Ian says, sounding out of breath and like he cannot quite believe that they’ve made it.

Anthony smiles, letting one hand make its way to Ian’s head. He cards his fingers through Ian’s hair. “I told you we’re going to be okay.”

“This is not the time to say ‘I told you so’.”

“Well you know what? I told you so.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own Smosh. I don’t make money from this.


End file.
